These C*nts on Twitter

The life of a Bangkok monger is a charmed one. Very few problems plague my day-to-day, in fact I refer to them as “Thailand problems” because they’re so benign that anywhere else in the world, they wouldn’t be problems. But that doesn’t mean I don’t feel like having a winge from time to time. This is one of those times. What follows is something of a rant. I apologize in advance.

You probably run across people in your everyday lives that, when they open their yap, you think to yourself, “Jeez, what a cunt.” Because let’s face it—the world is chock full o’ cunts. But it’s even more common on the Interweb, especially surrounding topics like my specialty: the redlight districts of Bangkok. Here are some recent examples of shitbrained fucktards who imposed themselves into my digital space in ridiculous ways…

This cunt from Amsterdam

This cunt from Amsterdam left a comment on one of my Twitter photos. It read, “Is this the best you could find?” He referred to a picture of my friends Sai and Pbai (posted above)—two dancers from XXX Lounge in Patpong—who I hang out with nightly and who often find themselves on the ocular side of my lens.

My initial reaction to the comment was “CUNNNT!” What an asshole. I blocked him, but his cunty comment stuck with me. I was annoyed. These girls are my friends. I snapped a pic of my friends outside the gogo. That’s all. Maybe if I’d posted a blog titled “The Hottest Ho’s in the World,” and attached the photo, there’d be room to criticize. But I didn’t. And it’s not my job to seek out and post only the finest asses in the redlight. Like I’m gonna aim my camera at my friends and then think, “Hang on a tick—these aren’t the hottest girls in Patpong. I can’t in good conscience post their photo. How would it look to the Amsterdam whoremongers?” The fuck? I don’t care if some rando thinks they’re not hot. Beauty’s in the eye of the beholder, cunt. Lots of dudes find these girls attractive, me included. So you can go fuck yourself.

I’m sure he was trying to hint at something like, “The whores of Amsterdam are better.” I didn’t know it was a competition. Oh, and I’ve been to Amsterdam and no, they’re not better. Also, for the record, these girls ain’t whores. They’re gogo dancers. Sai rarely if ever barfines, and Pbai is a free spirit. She’ll fuck you if she feels like it but it’s no big deal to her if she never goes home with a customer. And only Thais are allowed to dance in gogo bars. Amsterdam attracts whoors from all over the world who want to make easy bucks on their backs. Thailand’s a whole other thing.

But the crux of my beef with this shithead hinged on the fact that he somehow must’ve thought his comment would go over well. Hordes of people on the internet drop comments like so many lumps of dogshit in the punchbowl. They’re like, “Oh hey, are you enjoying that photo? Here, take this—” plop! Right in the fucking punchbowl. As if that’s somehow an accomplishment. According to Google, this is called “trolling” and full disclosure—I’ve been guilty of it myself. But I fancy that my trolling displays some wit, some cleverness. Some poignancy. If I try to unpack this fucker’s comment, I think he was trying to tout the whores of Amsterdam when compared with what he sees as the raggedy sluts in Bangkok. News flash, asshat: they aren’t whores.

It reminds me of a recent comment a “Bangkok blogger” made on a photo of a Black Pagoda girl who happened to not be smiling in the picture. He typed, “This is why Nana is better than Patpong—the girls are more fun.” As if one photo represents every girl in a redlight district. You have to be a special kind of retarded to think something that stupid.

This cunt from England

I’m not sure if it’s the current culture, or if it’s Millennials’ fault (almost everything is these days), or if it’s because of the half-century long effort by Western govts to dumb down the population, but whatever the cause, there’s a subsection of people on the planet who think they’re entitled to things no sane person would assume they should get.

The other day on Twitter, some random douchebag left a post comment that read, “Hey mate, DM me. I have some questions.” I actually stared at it for several seconds with a mixture of emotions. Then I started to formulate a response: “First, cunt, I’m not your mate. Second, no. I ain’t gonna DM you. You’re not the boss of me. I don’t have to do what you say. Third, I have precisely zero interest in your questions. And fourth, I’m not in the service industry. I’m a whoremonger. Eat a dick, and then fuck yourself” (although in retrospect it would’ve made more sense to reverse those).

The absolute gall. To tell a stranger, “Do this for me.” Who does that? Who thinks that? Now, I’m not above answering questions. Dudes leave questions in my Twitter all the time. Like if I Tweet about Nana Plaza and somebody comments, “Which bars are open now?” I’m happy to answer—if I can. But for fuck’s sake, don’t expect me to set aside time in my day to reach out to you so you can unload your holiday-related Qs on me. I’m not a Help Centre. I’m a gogo rat.

Am I making a bigger deal out of this than it deserves? Sure. But cunts are like straws on a camel’s back. Or Chinese water torture. A coupla drops in the bucket ain’t a thing. But over time, the little annoyances add up—to a Substack post, I guess. Here’s another one…

This cunt from America

A couple weeks back, I got a DM from a dude in the Midwest. The gist of it was, “Hey Seven, I love Patpong too! I went there in 2015. I’m coming back next month. It would be cool to have a beer together. Maybe you can show me around.” Um………wow. In what world would I want to do either of those things? 9 out of every 10 people on the planet are unbearable, retarded cunts. Those aren’t good odds. So no, I don’t want to meet you, I don’t want to ferry you around the redlight, and I sure as fuckity fuck don’t want to sip a pint while you regale me with every stupid thought that runs through your pea brain, thanks no-thanks. I get so many similar messages on Facebook that I’ve had to post an auto-reply essentially saying that I’m not a tour guide and I don’t want any new friends. And if I’m honest, I’m not fun to be around, anyway. And I’m a bad conversationalist. Anyone who thought it’d be cool to have a beer with me would regret it in short order.

These cunts in the BKK scene

But maybe the worst of the worst is the guy who wants to either A—use your reach to increase his own online presence and/or B—steal your photos and repost them as his original content. I’ve got at least two “Bangkok redlight” dickheads who don’t have any content of their own and who regularly download my stuff and then Tweet it out as if it’s theirs. I’ve had to report posts to Twitter, Facebook, and Instagram multiple times for stolen photos and videos. The rule among Bangkok mongerbloggers is, you can share content as long as you give proper credit. The problem is, 90% of Bangkok mongerbloggers are lowlife no-talent scumbags who either don’t even live in Thailand or who don’t have the clout to be able to take photos in the redlights, so they happily steal the content others have worked so hard to create with zero compunction and zero fear of consequences. And really, what are the consequences? I mean, there are a couple of guys who—if I ever see them in Patpong—I’ll immediately kick in the chest as hard as I can, but other than that, the cunts get away with it. And then there are the competition—dudes who try to get in the gogos, who try to fenagle their way into shooting dancers, but for whatever reason (social ineptitude, unlikability, lack of photography skills, malodor) can’t establish themselves. So they add me and other guys like my friend Jack Nites on whatever platform and then proceed to chat me up in an effort to manufacture some kind of working relationship that doesn’t exist in the real world. They think that by commenting or making conversation that maybe my followers will see it and start following them. It’s the digital equivalent of riding coattails and it’s the hallmark of these BKKunts. I got one such comment just yesterday. It was a very friendly but totally unnecessary blurb that served only one purpose—to be visible to my followers. So I blocked him.

I’m a (very) minor social media personality. By that I mean each week, between Facebook, Twitter, Youtube, and my website (patpongnightlife.com) I reach a few thousand people. What any legitimate social media person will tell you is, you should never read the comments folks leave. Because 90% of people in the world are brain-dead, talentless, lackadaisical do-nothings who find it much easier to tear down a stranger than produce something creative themselves. In spite of this, I do get some very nice comments from time to time as well as words of encouragement from the (very few) people who like my content. But then there are others—I call them people, though that might be too kind—who seem to follow me for the sole purpose of shitting on what I produce. Or to gain clout. Both types are equally smegmatic (“smegmatic”—adjective. The state of being covered in or made up entirely of smegma.)

What’s the moral of this story? What’s the takeaway? I dunno. I guess…..that there are cunts in this world? But you already knew that. Ahh, shit, sorry for wasting your time. I guess it just took me this long to say, if you send me a message or comment on my posts somewhere in cyberspace and I don’t respond, don’t take it personally. Oh, and if you steal my stuff, you’re a cunt.

That concludes my winge. I think I have about one of these per year, so that should be the last of my negativity until 2023.